The Australian Stockman

Blue-winged Kookaburra

The sun peers o’er you wooded ridge and thro’ the forest dense,
Its golden edge o’er the mountain ledge looks down on the stockyard
    fence,
Looks down, looks down, looks down on the stockyard fence;
And dark creeks rush thro’ the tangled brush, when their shuddering
    shadows throng
Until they chime in the rude rough rhyme of the wild goburra’s song.

Till they chime, ha! ha! till they chime, ha! ha! in the wild
    goburra’s song;
Till they chime, ha! ha! till they chime, ha! ha! in the wild
    goburra’s song.

The night owl to her home hath fled, to shun the glorious pomp
Of golden day she speeds away to her nest in the tea-tree swamp;
Away, away to her nest in the tea-tree swamp.

The dingo looks with a timid stare as he stealthily prowls along,
And his pattering feet in concert beat with the wild goburra’s song.

Till they chime, ha! ha! till they chime, ha! ha! in the wild
    goburra’s song;
Till they chime, ha! ha! till they chime, ha! ha! in the wild
    goburra’s song.

Oh! let them boast their city’s wealth, who toil in a dusty town;
Give me the beam on the mountain stream, and the range’s
    dark-faced frown —
The stream, the stream, and the range’s dark-faced frown.
When our steed shall pass o’er the quiv’ring grass, and the crack
    of the sounding thong
Shall bid the startled echoes join the wild goburra’s song.

Till they chime, ha! ha! till they chime, ha! ha! in the wild
    goburra’s song;
Till they chime, ha! ha! till they chime, ha! ha! in the wild
    goburra’s song.